


On how the tape was bestowed

by Laura_Sinele



Series: Fictober 2019 drabbles [7]
Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: Anti-Rammstein Discourse, Arguing, Canon Disabled Character, Gen, Kaiju Blue, Laboratories, M/M, Military, Military Ranks, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-08
Updated: 2019-10-08
Packaged: 2020-11-29 04:14:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20956748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laura_Sinele/pseuds/Laura_Sinele
Summary: Hermann Gottlieb and Newton Geiszler were pen pals for a time, until they actually met and the kaiju guts hit the fan.





	On how the tape was bestowed

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for Fictober19 prompt #7: "No, and thats final".

Doctor Hermann Gottlieb hurried after Marshal Stacker Pentecost who had just left him behind when leaving his office, refusing to continue their conversation. 

"Marshal! Marshal Pentecost, sir, I beg you to reconsider", pleaded Hermann. 

Pentecost turned around and rose a warning index finger at the mathematician. 

"Doctor Gottlieb, I said no. And that's final". 

His profound discomfort with the situation prompted him to insist, but Pentecost's stern look finally dissuaded him. 

"Yes, Marshall. I apologise for the inconvenience caused". 

"No need, Doctor. Now go back to the lab and keep on with your research". 

Upon entering the laboratory he shared with Doctor Newton Geiszler, Hermann was greeted with cacophonous screeches coming from an outdated Hi-Fi system and some calamitous German lyrics enthusiastically sing-alonged by Geiszler himself. After an irrepressible, annoyed sigh, Hermann began his crusade against industrial metal —how he was able to recognise and name the genre of that uproarious gibberish was something beyond Doctor Gottlieb’s understanding, which was saying a lot. 

"Doctor Geiszler. Doctor! Doc… DOCTOR GEISZLER!" 

The said turned the volume down and smiled widely at Hermann. 

"Hey, Herms, my man! How was your meeting with the Marshal? Did you get your own lab?" 

Hermann felt his blood rush up to his cheeks as he blushed. Adopting his usual holier-than-thou attitude for when Geiszler was around, he denied having had such a meeting, and he beelined to his work post, wondering if Geiszler was just taking the piss as usual or he actually knew about Hermann's frustrated intentions. 

"Okay, dude. You know what? I've been putting with your bullshit since day one, and I was willing to let this whole Geiszler-is-impossible-to-work-with crap and go about my business, you know, just trying to save the world and stuff. But lying to my face like this? Like, I can take rejection and I am quite used to be rejected by you but, but dude! I know you went to see Pentecost to get a lab for yourself! This might surprise you: I also know it's not the first time you do. Can you just be an adult for a minute and admit you want to get rid of me? Oh, and in the meantime, would it kill you to tell me why the fuck do I disturb you so much?"

Berated, and ashamed of having his pettiness exposed, Hermann changed his course to clash with Newton in the middle of the room. 

“An adult? An adult? I assume from your choice of words that you think of yourself as one whereas you find me childish. Me! Childish! Of course Doctor Geiszler, at any given time  _ you _ , amongst all people, are an example of maturity and poise! You, with your incredibly offensive body art, your early 2000s wannabe punk rocker outfits, your general loudness and… and Rammstein!”, he finished pointing at the stereo with his cane, evoking the intensity and moral weight of each and every iteration of Zola’s “J’accuse”.

“Oh, that’s rich, Herr Doktor. _Sehr schön, ya? Herrlich!_”, for some reason Hermann cringed whenever Newton addressed him in German, rather choosing to speak British English with a mild German accent to Newton and have Newton answer with his neutral American English. Of course, Newton would always exploit that when arguments escalated. “Ran out of arguments so you ressort to  _ ad hominem _ . _Was ist dein problem_?”, he finished punctuating the syllables with a poking, latex gloved, kaiju blue covered finger on Hermann’s chest. 

“Ach! For Peter’s sake, Geiszler, what are you thinking?! You could have contaminated me!”

“I could have…?”, Newton grunted in a high pitch, turned to his work bench, took from it a random gorey piece of kaiju and brandished it in front of Hermann’s face. “If I wanted to ‘contaminate you’, I would have thrown this bladder at your stupid, pointy face!” He screamed over Hermann’s yelling.

“For the last time, Doctor Geiszler, take that alien viscera away from me!”, he said, rising his cane as a means to keep Newton at a distance. 

Instead, he hit the bladder. Which exploded violently.

What followed was one of those silences so deep that your own blood thrumming in your ears gives you a migraine. And then lots of yelling and running to the ancient chemical shower the lab was equipped with. 

And that is how Stacker Pentecost finally took a desperate measure to avoid any more potentially lethal incidents between the two geniuses: he had a janitor run warning tape along the laboratory and told Geiszler and Gottlieb to stay each one at his side under penalty of court-martial. 


End file.
